


Half the Size but Three Times the Heart

by DoctorFitzy (KittooningMalijah)



Series: bar au [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: M/M, Thomas is just a cameo, bar au, fitz and ward own a bar, he's technically only in one of the flashbacks, it is not called puzzles, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 05:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7965013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittooningMalijah/pseuds/DoctorFitzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma has been a regular customer for years, but she's somehow the only regular they have who hasn't heard how they met.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Half the Size but Three Times the Heart

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: FitzWard + "it happened over a decade ago"

_“So, I’ve heard the Skye story.”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“And the Phil and Melinda story.”_

_“Right.”_

_“But how did you meet Grant?”_

_Leo is wiping down the counter while the statements are rattled off to him, lifting his head and stopping with a small frown at the question. He’s supposed to be getting everything ready to open for the night, but with Jemma working on her dissertation during the bar’s off hours, he’s talking instead – despite the fact that he only has half an hour before pretzels and nuts have to be set out, everything has to be organized behind the bar, and the open sign has to be lit. The conversation had taken a different turn than he had been expecting it to, and he certainly hadn’t been prepared to discuss how he’d met his boyfriend when they’d started talking about a few of the bar’s usual patrons. “It’s not like it’s a fun story about someone getting drunk and dancing on a table – and it happened over a decade ago.”_

_“That doesn’t mean I want to hear it any less. Come on, I’m the only one who hasn’t heard it.”_

_When he shifts his gaze over toward her, he has no choice but to let out a sigh of defeat when he sees the look in her eyes. No matter how little time he has until he’s supposed to be working, she was going to get the story out of him, and there’s no point in arguing – it would only waste time. “Alright, fine, but you only get the details I tell you, and you are only allowed to ask questions to clarify things. A lot of it isn’t my story to tell.” The Scotsman pauses for a moment to wait for her nod in response before speaking again. “It started my first year in America – I was about thirteen, and living on the university campus…”_

* * *

 

He was well aware that he was small compared to everyone else, but that came with being five or more years younger than those around him. While the other freshman were pushing six feet, Leo wasn't even five feet on his toes, and sometimes that was a hassle, but there were days when it was nice to be practically invisible. It meant he could sit in the back of lecture halls and scribble equations on scrap paper without anyone caring, and duck into the dorm without attracting any attention to himself, and not have to worry about making conversation while eating in the dining hall.

          His dorm was bigger than most, and he had it all to himself, thanks to his age and the fact that he was a certifiable genius. No one wanted to room with some kid who could probably outsmart them in his sleep, so no one did. It just meant it was all his, and that was just fine with him. He could keep the bed and desk in the small bedroom, have a bathroom to himself, and he'd even managed to fit a couch into the smaller sitting area by the kitchenette. It was comfortable, and it was his, and that was just how he liked it.

          For half a term, things were like that - his and only his, quiet, and it was easy to work on assignments without any distractions besides whatever side project he let himself get interested in. Then, when things changed, it was drastic, and scary, and the best thing that ever happened to him.

          It was one of  _those_ nights, the ones when he was holed up in his bedroom working on a paper, the lamp on his desk turned so that he could see the book spread open across the wooden surface while he scribbled down the words as they came to mind. It was quiet, and he could focus, and the words came easily while he hummed to himself. And then there was an almost frantic knock at the door in the next room, and his entire process stopped. No one every visited - he was just Little Leo Fitz, the brainiac foreign kid - why would anyone want to visit him?

          That was exactly why he was so hesitant, rising from his chair and peering out of his bedroom toward the door that led to the wider main hallway of the building. He could tell, immediately, that the knocking wasn't going to stop until he at least ventured forward to investigate. A part of him thought it was a prank, some of the older students messing with him because he was different enough to be an easy target, and that fear made him that much more tentative. It took almost a full minute before he could move again, taking careful steps forward so that he wouldn't be heard until the moment he pulled the door open.

          He had to step back quickly when the other person stumbled with the sudden motion of the door, and Leo almost hid while he tried to catch up on what was happening. It wasn't someone from any of his classes, he could tell that almost immediately, but that didn't change the fact that the other person was  _tall_ , certainly over a foot taller than he was, which wasn't new considering the people he was around on a regular basis, but it was the first time that anyone had visited him, and it was more than a bit overwhelming. Still, something  _stopped him_ from ducking behind the door, and it was the fact that the person he was staring at with wide eyes looked just as confused as he felt.

          The logical conclusion was that he had the wrong room - he was looking for someone else, not some kid half his size who was cowering as far away as he could be without letting go of the doorknob. It would be easy enough to say exactly that, but the Scot was hesitant, still not entirely sure that he wasn't being messed with. There was such a thing as  _acting_ after all. Eventually, he managed to stand up straighter again while taking a deep breath, reluctantly shuffling forward a few steps so that there was a polite distance between them, instead of the kind of space that would give away just how afraid he was.

          There were very few reasons for why someone like that would be at his door, and almost none of them were good. Best case scenario, he really did have the wrong room, and they'd part after a short conversation and never see each other again. That was certainly the option Leo was hoping for. Worst case, this really was some kind of prank, and he was either about to be pantsed or grabbed to be taken somewhere else - this guy certainly seemed like he was big enough to do either.

          A long moment of silence passed before either of them even tried to speak, and even then, the stranger's voice was quiet and uncertain. "You're not John."

          The tree words were enough to confirm exactly what he'd been suspecting from the moment he'd heard the knock. This was just some person who had a room number or the building wrong, no reason to be so paranoid. Of course, that didn't stop him from worrying - there was still the size difference to consider, after all. As a response, the Scot shook his head quickly, still doing his best to stand up straight and not seem so small. "I think... I think I'm just a bit  _younger_ than whoever you're looking for."

          There was a beat of absolute quiet, even the vents seemed to fall silent until the stranger gave a somewhat hesitant nod of his head in confirmation. He didn't need to, not when the answer was so obvious, but it was... nice? Almost. It was better than the blank stares they'd been sharing before, at least. The fact that he was being acknowledged, like he was an actual person who said things that mattered, put Leo at ease. Would someone do that if they were planning on following it up with a prank?

          "Something like that, yeah..."

          As time went on and silence dragged out again, he became more and more aware of the fact that the stranger in front of him wasn't just another student at the university - he looked younger than anyone in any of his classes, not by much but by just enough to matter, and beyond the confusion at seeing a  _kid_ on a university campus, he saw something else, something familiar. he looked  _scared._ It was a feeling that came with being in an unfamiliar place, feeling alone - the Scot knew the feeling better than he'd ever admit.

          "This is Providence room 203, isn't it?"

          Leo gave a small shake of his head in response, clearing his throat before even trying to find the right words. "No. This is 302. You have the right building, you just want to go down one floor." At least living in the building for as long as he had meant that he knew his way around. Of course, a short glance, just a flicker of his gaze toward the clock in the kitchenette was enough to tell him what time it was. Either he and the stranger had been standing in quiet confusion for longer than he thought, or he'd been too caught up in writing his paper to realize how much time he'd been spending on it, or some combination of both. No matter which was true, he couldn't stop himself from being curious. "It's almost two in the morning. Are you even allowed to be here this late? Doesn't this friend of yours - John, wasn't it? Doesn't he have class or something tomorrow? This is a  _school._ People are here to  _learn,_ not be woken up at two in the morning by someone who's not even supposed to be here."

          The words came out quickly, and he wasn't entirely sure of where they came from, but a strong part of him believed in them wholeheartedly, and the fact that he was having a clear effect on the stranger sent a surge of pride through him. He, Leopold Fitz, a tiny kid from Scotland, had managed to have an effect on this American who was at least two or three years older than he was. Of course, the momentary pride disappeared almost immediately when the tall stranger spoke again, faster than before and clearly distressed.

          "You're just a kid, what do you know? It's two in the morning - you don't think I'm here for a reason? I can't exactly wander back home at this time of night, can I? I'm going to get in enough trouble for leaving as it is. My options at the moment are to stay with my friend for a few nights or find a bench to crash on, and I didn't see a whole lot of benches on the drive over here. So, unless you have some other great idea for me, it looks like I'm going to be waking someone up."

          It was a stupid idea, quite possibly the worst one he'd ever had,  _almost certainly_ the worst one he'd ever had. Maybe it was the time and the fact that he was so tired, too tired for any kind of filter on his thoughts, or the fact that he knew what it was like to be so scared. Even the logic of reminding himself that this was a  _complete stranger_ didn't change his mind.

          "Stay with me." After he said it, Leo understood how crazy it was, and he was quick to explain his reasoning. "I have a couch. I'm sure it's much more comfortable than a bench, and you don't have to wake anyone else up to use it. I don't have a roommate, either, so you won't have to answer any awkward questions in the morning. My first class isn't until noon, so you don't have to be out of here super early." Following that logic, it was the perfect plan, though he knew there were a lot of other things to consider. They'd known each other for  _maybe_ twenty minutes, and all they knew was that they didn't exactly enjoy each other's company, though hopefully they didn't hate each other so much that only one of them made it through the night. They didn't even know each other's  _names._ After a quiet moment, the Scotsman took a slow breath, reminding himself to maintain eye contact - it was the polite thing to do - while speaking again, a bit quiet than before. "I'm Leo, by the way."

          There was silence between them again, and he almost thought his offer would be rejected; staying with a friend was likely a far better option than passing out on a total stranger's couch. Then, Leo could have sworn he heard everything coming together in the other boy's head, and he didn't have to wait very long for the response that mean this dorm would feel less abandoned, and he didn't have to refer to the strange person sleeping on his couch as the stranger who had knocked on his door at almost two in the morning.

          "I'm Grant."

* * *

 

           _He stops the story to step out from behind the door and turn on the red, neon sign in the window. It isn't even close to being finished, but he **does** have to open the bar on time, it's kind of the only income he has. Jemma, on the other hand, has already tucked all of her school work away, leaning forward and eagerly awaiting more details._

_"And you just became friends? Just like that?"_

_Leo almost rolls his eyes, shaking his head while taking his place behind the counter again. Nothing is ever that simple, especially when it comes to him and Grant. "Not even close. I slept with my bedroom door locked that night. My thirteen year old imagination was entirely convinced that he was going to kill me in my sleep, so I took the necessary precautions."_

_With a small nod, he turns his head at the sound of footsteps on the stairs toward the back of the building. They don't have to wait long before they hear another familiar voice, calling out toward them, confirming their silent theories that it's exactly who they'd been talking about only moments ago._

_"Tommy's gonna be late. I can take the bar if you take over the kitchen until he gets here."_

_At the words, Leo lets out a sigh and drops the towel he'd been using to wipe down the bar directly onto the wooden surface. "We give him a place to stay through culinary school, and now he doesn't even show up to the one job where he gets to use the degree." He almost starts to turn around to go into the kitchen, stopping when he remembers how the conversation had been going before the interruption. "I was just telling Jemma about how we met if you want to pick up where I left off. We just got through the introductions."_

_Left alone only a moment later, Grant shifts his weight so that he can lean against the bar while looking over at their English friend. There's a short moment of silence before he speaks, reaching over to grab the towel left behind by his boyfriend. "I don't care how he told it, he told it wrong." He doesn't give her the time to respond before speaking, starting the story again. "It was my junior year of high school, and I was spending the night doing homework with Thomas up in my room..."_

* * *

 

Things had been quiet all evening - homework was nearly finished and Thomas was practically asleep on the bed where he'd curled up nearly an hour before. For the first time since the school year started, things at home were actually calm; their parents weren't screaming at each other, Christian wasn't butting into their peaceful studying time, and when the clock on his bedside table showed midnight, Grant let out an utterly relaxed sigh before closing his textbook. It was the calmest Thursday he could ever remember experiencing, and he planned on taking advantage of it by getting a good night's sleep.

          At exactly 12:02, he'd managed to move his brother over enough to make space to lay down in his own bed, and had the blankets draped over him when the door burst open. Before he knew what was happening, the blankets were on the floor and a rather familiar figure standing over him.

          As far as brothers came, he had exactly one good one, who was now wide awake next to him. The  _less fun_ sibling was the one standing over them, casting a shadow across the bed in the light from the hallway. Of all of Christian's instances of poor timing, this was by far the worst, even if only because it was the one time Grant wasn't ready for the usual torment, had let his guard down and expected a night of peace. How naive of him.

          "We have an arrangement, Grant. You didn't really think you could get out of it, did you?"

          Any other twenty two year old aspiring politician would be on campus on a Thursday night, going to school and getting a degree, but not his brother. They were  _Wards;_  they didn't need an education, they had  _money._ Apparently, they didn't need to be nice people, either, at least from where he stood, watching his parents and older brother. The exceptions to the Ward family cruelty gene were his sister, Charlotte, who had gotten her degree in law and moved to the other side of the country the same year Grant started high school, and Thomas, who was two years younger than him and twice as much of a victim when it came to Christian's torture. As for himself, Grant wasn't so lucky to have the Ward family asshole gene skip him.

          The day had been  _good,_ and peaceful, and he'd let himself be happy.  _Thomas_ had been happy. Things had been better than he ever thought they could, and then his ass of an older brother decided to come right in and ruin it. How dare he?

          Getting up out of bed, he made sure his frown didn't give away just how angry he was at the interruption. Socked feet hit the floor only moments before his least favorite person in the world started speaking, but he didn't even get through finishing the first word of his sentence before Grant cut in, giving up on trying to hide his emotions.

          "No." It was one word he'd never said to his brother before, no matter what he'd been threatened into doing, but he'd been taking orders from Christian for far too long. He wasn't going to put up with it anymore. "I'm not your little slave to order around. We're not here just for you to torture and play games with. We're  _people_ \- human beings - and as soon as I'm old enough, I'm leaving this house, and I won't have to deal with your power play  _bullshit_ anymore!"

          Grant was lucky to get the words out before two strong hands on his shoulders pushed him stumbling back into the wall. For all the dirty work he delegated to his poor victims over the years, Christian wasn't weak in any sense of the word. He was manipulative, and cruel, and his eyes had the ability to make someone go from trusting to fearful and back again in a matter of seconds. Politics was a smart career choice, he'd give him that. "Here's the thing,  _Grant,_ I don't think you will." To any outsider, he sounded casual and aloof, like they were discussing whether or not Grant would pass the physics class he'd taken on that semester, but he knew that tone better than anyone. Sheets were rustled, and a quiet sound from the other side of the bed reminded him of why the eldest Ward brother was absolutely right - Thomas. He wouldn't leave his brother behind for anything, not when he knew what kind of hell lingered in the house, but the challenge in the words made him snap.  _Under normal circumstances,_ there was nothing that could make him leave Thomas to suffer through their brother's torment alone, but too many lines had been crossed, and he was going to take any out he could find.

          "Fucking  _watch me._ "

          With those three words, Grant stomped forward, shoving past the imposing figure separating himself from his desk. he crammed his textbooks into his backpack before putting the strap on his shoulder and walking down the hall, taking the stairs, and pointedly slamming the door shut behind him on his way out. What did it matter if his parents heard? It wasn't like he planned on being back to face the music any time soon.

          The engine of his car growled to life and he immediately pulled out of the driveway, not entirely sure of where he was going, just that he was going  _away._ Maybe he could head out of town - it would be a half hour drive if he wanted to get to school in the morning, but he'd probably be able to talk to John and work out sleeping on a couch for a few nights. John Garrett was one of Christian's best friends in high school, but when he went off to college, they grew apart. During the few occasions when he'd been around since graduation, John had taken to being on Grant's side whenever an argument broke out. They weren't quite  _friends,_ but he was low on options.

          He hadn't counted on being in such a rush that he knocked on the wrong door.

* * *

 

          _There's quiet chatter through the bar from the few people who have filtered in since they opened, but Jemma and Grant are silent. None of it was information from Leo's version of the story, and she's trying to process all of it, and what it means. She knew, of course, that they were young when they met, that the circumstances that had brought them together had been strange and no one talked about it, but she'd never thought it would be something like **this**._

_"I know what you're thinking." It's Grant who breaks their mutual silence, his voice low enough that, if the bar was any busier, he wouldn't have been heard. "I left a shitty house to go stay with a **kid** for one night. Big deal, right? But I stayed with Leo for the entire weekend, and then a week, and then a month. I commuted back into town for school every day, and then slept on a couch in a  **thirteen year old's** dorm room. Thomas helped me smuggle clothes and mail, and then he started staying with us on weekends. It was way better than dealing with my family."_

_They're quiet again, but it's not very long before Jemma leans forward, clearly curious to hear more. "But I still don't understand - you could have just gone to stay with John after that first night. Why didn't you?"_

_She gets a shrug in response, and Grant busies himself with making a drink to set in front of her before speaking up again. "By that time, I'd known John for about eight years. He'd seen all the shit my family pulled, but he'd never once done a thing to try to help me. Then, I happened to meet this kid, half my size but three times the heart I have, and he didn't know a thing about me, but he helped anyway. He was so **good**. Still is. He didn't have to do anything for me, he didn't even have to open the door. To put it really simply..." He trails off, turning around to look through the open door to the kitchen while leaning back against the counter. Inside, Leo is clearly frustrated, shouting at the poor kitchen staff who aren't used to having a short fused Scotsman in charge of them, but Grant has a fond smile on his face, lost in the thoughts of a little kid who'd decided to let him stick around  **just because**. "In a way, I think he saved my life."_


End file.
